


replay.

by overlordy



Series: control. [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gaster Needs a Hug, Hand Kink, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tentacles, bone-fondling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:45:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5173388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overlordy/pseuds/overlordy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaster came to Sans for comfort, to feel warmth again. How can Sans say no?</p><p>Even if it's the thousandth time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	replay.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this at 12 am so... watch out, i guess. anyway, enjoy my gross skeleboning

Darkness filled Sans’s vision when he opened his eyes. It swam and twisted, coalescing into a multitude of shapes warped into horrifying objects. Faces clenched in agony floated past. Long, misshapen claws reached out and hooked on his jacket, begging him for release.

He didn't bat an eye, knowing better than to try and help the poor souls lost to the darkness around him. He shook off the clawing hand and whoever it was gave a soundless scream before disappearing amongst the other masses.

There could only be one reason why Sans stood in the void between dimensions unscathed. Said reason appeared without warning in front of him, pale face shimmering against the dark void. Gaster’s hollow eyes darted about and his hands trembled as they always do. The sight made Sans’s empty chest cavity twist in grief. Gaster's hands didn't always tremble.

“ _You came?_ ” the former scientist's hands asked, flying through the air at a breakneck pace, but Sans had been around Gaster enough to catch on.

“of course,” he responded, voice hollow and unwelcome in the space between dimensions. “can't say no to you, buddy.”

Gaster's crooked smile grew a little lighter, overjoyed. The sight made Sans’s heart break a little more. Slowly, Gaster slunk forward, palms up so that Sans could see the black holes carved into his palms. They weren't hollow, but they weren't drawn on. Sans wondered where the holes led, but his self-preservation prevented him from finding out.

Sans held out a bony hand as Gaster drew nearer. Their palms fit together snugly, fingers lacing together like they were always meant to. Gaster made a happy noise, a sound not unlike the helpless breaths of someone close to death.

“let's move this to my place, hm? sounds like you need a hands-on experience. or should i say, a _sans_ on experience.”

Gaster's hands twitched and expressed his disappointment in that pun, but his body trembled with excitement. Sans knew he enjoyed the puns for the comfort and familiarity, regardless of how much Gaster denied it. It was almost habit, if they had muscles it would be muscle memory, for Gaster to respond with exasperation. Sans was all too happy to follow routine.

Sans closed his eyes, as expected, and when he opened them it was to the kind and familiar darkness of his bedroom. He felt his bed against his bare back- his ball of blankets discarded somewhere for the time being- and hands against his hips. He peered up at Gaster. As if deterred by his gaze, the hands moved back.

_“Are you alright, Sans? Should I stop?”_

Gaster asked that every time. “c’mon, gaster, you haven't even started yet.” And every time, Sans encouraged him. This was no different as Sans reached down and grasped Gaster's hands, bringing them up to his face and pressing them against his teeth, the best kiss he could give. Gaster gasped, the sound deep and wet and rattling in Sans’s mind. His fingers curled in delight and Sans released his grip so Gaster could trail his nimble fingers along Sans’s jaw and down the top of his spine, his touch strange and yet familiar like the echo of a long forgotten dream.

Gaster's distal phalanges pressed against Sans’s vertebrae as he moved his hands down. Sans tipped his head back, groaning as the pleasant sensation filled his bones. Gaster’s fingers curled around his collarbone, gently, as if Sans would break at any moment. Sans gasped, a pleasant heat building at the base of his spine and spreading through his body. He clutched desperately at the sheets, trembling under Gaster's gentle hands as they stroked his ribs, hooking around the edges and twisting. He shivered at the cold touch, but arched his back into Gaster's hands, seeking more. “ga-gaster-” he moaned. The being above him nodded and pressed closer, black tendrils emerging from his body, slick and unnaturally warm. They wrapped around Sans’s wrists and forced his arms above his head. The skeleton shook with delight and anticipation.

“it seems im a little _tied up_ ,” Sans joked. He snorted as Gaster shook his head despairingly and pulled his hands away. Sans missed the contact, but two more tendrils took their place, slipping between Sans’s ribs and filling him up.

 _“That was terrible,”_ Gaster’s hands admonished as Sans writhed beneath him. _“I think I've heard it too many times.”_

It required immense concentration for Sans to respond coherently. The tendrils curling inside his rib cage and stroking along his spinal column made word processing more difficult than it should be. “maybe i should- _ah-_ step up my game- _fuck!_ ”

Gaster chuckled, the sound pressing against Sans like a ton of bricks. _“Should you be talking? You seem a little… wrapped up.”_

“god damn, that was beautiful. this is why i love you- _hnn!”_

His words died as Gaster's hands found his pelvis, his touch insistent and relentless. He traced circles against Sans’s iliac crest, adding just the right amount of pressure. His hands dipped into Sans’s pubic arch and massaged the sensitive bones there as Sans bucked desperately into the touch, seeking out more sensation, more of the burning heat that Gaster's clever hands spread through his bones. Nonsensical pleas for _more_ and cries of _yes, don't stop!_ filled the darkness of his room. The tendrils in his rib cage squirmed with more vigor, wrapping around his spine and squeezing. The sensation hovered just on the verge of suffocating and effectively choked off Sans’s desperate cry as he came, toes curling and spine arching up against the bed. Gaster's touch slowed, guiding him down from his peak, until his movements stopped completely.

With astounding gentleness, Gaster removed his tendrils, leaving Sans with an empty feeling, but his hands lingered. Sans shivered, his bones oversensitive, as Gaster’s hands travelled up and reverently cupped Sans’s face. The palms were cold and deep instinct warned Sans to shy away, but he fought against all reason and pressed into the touch. Gaster stared down at him, always on the verge of saying something, but Sans never heard it.

Gaster withdrew his hands. _“Goodbye,”_ he signed, and he was gone, leaving behind no trace of his presence other than a heavy and dead atmosphere. Sans tried not to feel disappointed and shoved away his grief as he stood and redressed, ready to welcome a child from the ruins for the infinite time.

It always happened this way.

 


End file.
